


A Clandestine Recitation

by TypingMonkey (purty64)



Category: The Penumbra Podcast, The Second Citadel (The Penumbra Podcast)
Genre: F/M, I don't, IT'S NOT MY FAULT, M/M, Multi, it's based on a play I haven't seen so I don't have ANY idea what to tag this as, people were talking in the snerver okay, yes it's all of them seperately it's a plot point okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:28:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22457974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purty64/pseuds/TypingMonkey
Summary: Arum is in love with a beautiful woman, but heknowsshe'd reject him outright if he tried to proposition her directly. He just needs someone to be his voice, for a while.Enter, Damien.Let the chaos ensue.
Relationships: Lord Arum/Rilla (Penumbra Podcast), Lord Arum/Sir Damien (Penumbra Podcast), Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla (Penumbra Podcast), Sir Damien/Rilla (Penumbra Podcast)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	1. Part the First

**Author's Note:**

> so I've had this sitting in my drafts for. literal months oh my gods. since about october? yikes. but I 1) and not actually good at or even really enjoy writing, and 2) really, _really_ like how this came out and wanted to share. this will probably never be marked finished, and I'm just gonna have to be okay with that. rip me.

“I require… a favor.”

Damien pointedly did not look towards the strange, rasping voice behind him. It was not the type of voice that allowed that, not without permission. “What kind of favor?”

“Nothing illegal, if that is what you think.”

“No?”

He leaned back, crossing his arms in front of him. “I’m surprised. In this place-”

“- it is unlikely. I understand that. But you have my word.”

“The word of a stranger who’s face I haven’t seen?”

“ _You_ are the one who chose not to look.” He turned.

He was… disappointed. The figure behind him, the only one close enough to have started this mysterious conversation was wearing a cloak with the hood pulled down, throwing what features he may have had into shadow. It was a man, however. Damien was sure of that.

He threw the shadows under the hood a look, hoping the face he couldn’t see would catch it. The figure shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, well. My face is…” he hesitated, and Damien could have sworn his teeth were a lot longer, _sharper_ than they should have been. They glinted. “... not fit for polite company.”

Damien grinned. “This is hardly polite company.” He _hissed_.

“It is a _euphemism_ , take it as it _is!_ ”

"Alright, alright!" He held his hands up in a placating gesture, then turned back to nurse his drink. "It was in jest, my friend." His grin widened as the figure hissed again. He liked the sound. "What's the favor?"

The stranger didn't respond right away, so Damien tilted his head in his direction, looking at him from the corner of his eye. The figure had tensed up, drawing his cloak closer to him. He looked smaller. Afraid. "This is not the place for us to speak." _Was that a forked tongue?_ "Meet me here," he said, holding out a slip of paper with an address written on it. His hand was gloved, and his sleeves went right up to the edge of the leather, and then some. Damien realized that he hadn't seen hide nor hair of his companion throughout the entire conversation.

"How odd," he murmured under his breath.

"What?"

"Hmm? Oh," he shook his head. "It's nothing. Just an idle thought." The... man, hissed under his breath, turned on one heel and left the bar. It filled Damien's chest with... something. He decided to call it amusement.

Reading the note, Damien dropped a few coins on the counter. He occasionally sang songs and recited poetry here, to earn some extra coin between commissions, which made the stranger's request all the more odd. He _hadn't_ done anything illegal, yet, and certainly nothing anyone would want to pay him under the table for. Especially since he wanted to meed in a public park, where while there may be less people, the ones present would be significantly less lenient towards unsavory deals.

"A _very_ nice part of town." Damien said to himself. "I wonder if he lives there?"

Well, he'd find out tomorrow.

~LKT~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _oh my gods y'all I'd completely forgotten I made the line breaks lizard kissin tuesday like **good thing** it's tuesday oh my gods_


	2. Part the Second

Damien checked the slip of paper one last time before tucking it back into his pocket. As far as he could tell, this was the place, and the time, but the stranger was nowhere to be seen. He settled back on his heels, anxiously playing with the necklace that usually lay beneath his shirt, when-

"Psst."

He jumped. "Who's there? Where are you?"

"I'm right _here_ , you fool." Damien turned, but all he saw were the decorative hedges and flowerbeds of the public garden. "Where?"

" _Here!_ " He finally realized where the voice was coming from and squinted, picking out the silhouette inside one of the bushes along the path. Clearly his benefactor did not wish to be seen.

"Ah. I see."

The bush scoffed. "Took you long enough." Damien waited, but the bush apparently had nothing else to add.

"What is it you wish me to do?" he prompted. The bush shifted, as embarrassed as a bush could look.

"... right." The same gloved hand from before appeared, holding another slip of paper. "I need you to read a series of poems for this woman. Her name is Amaryllis, and _that_ ," he gestured at the paper now in Damien's hand, "is her address. The plan is that you will read the poems from underneath her balcony, where she waters her plants." Damien studied the address. It was only a few blocks south of the park they were meeting in. "Is she rich?"

"Her father is. Or was, I suppose."

"He's dead?"

The hand disappeared back into it's leafy recess. "Both he and his wife disappeared quite a few years ago. Amaryllis was raised by a family friend, but she inherited the estate." Damien nodded, clearly impressed. "What exactly is your intent with this? I'll need to select different works depending on what you wish to achieve."

"That will not be necessary. I will be supplying the poems for you to read, you will simply be acting as my voice."

Damien stared into the bush, trying for the first time to get a good look at exactly who he was talking to. "That is a very strange request, my friend, and you didn't answer my question. _What_ is your goal in this?" Silence fell.

Damien heard nothing but the rustle of the leaves, until he was convinced that his benefactor had somehow left without him noticing, meaning he was startled when he finally spoke. "I... I wish to court her." Damien's head snapped up.

"...well, then why don't you?"

"Because!" The bush bristled.

"That _isn't_ an answer, my friend."

" _Because-!_ " He deflated. "Because, _Honeysuckle_ , she would take one look at me and laugh in my face if it was I who recited my- these poems."

"It is you who is hiding in a honeysuckle, my friend, not I. But," Damien held up a hand, aborting the bush's protest, "I will accept. On one condition." He sighed, sounding resigned. "Name it"

"What is your name?"

"That is _all_?"

"I cannot simply refer to you as my benifactor, my friend. I have many of those, after all," he added with a wink.

"... Arum. I am Lord Arum."

"Well then, Lord Arum, I will help you court the rich and fair Amaryllis." Arum chuckled.

"She may be beautiful, but she is not fair."

Damien grinned. "Touche." He tilted his head, brows furrowing. "When shall we meet?" The bush rustled.

"Meet me beneath her balcony tonight, on the north side of that address. I will go into further detail then."

"Until tonight, then."

"Until tonight." Damien smiled.

He may not be getting paid, but this was going to be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell. I cannot write. hoo boy.


	3. Part the Seventh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are you ready. for bad poetry. oh no.

"One more time, from the top."

Damien cleared his throat. He swallowed. He began:

" _And oh, my forever flower, you fill me with joy  
The crashing waves against the shore   
Could not lift me higher, or faster, or farther   
Than the sight of your eyes lit up inside court_"

"No! No, that simply will not do," Arum snarled, throwing himself out of his chair. "No, I see that now... what was I thinking?" he added under his breath. "Inside court, _feh._ Dreadful." Damien watched him, by now used to his dramatics, yet unable to look away. "If I may, my Lord..?"

"Yes?" Arum spun, his cloak flaring out around him. "What?"

Damien took a breath and began again:

" _And oh, my forever flower, you fill me with joy T_  
he crashing waves against the shore   
Could not lift me higher, or faster, or farther   
Than the sight of your eyes at the crest of the morn"

Arum nodded. "Better. Wait!" He lept across the room, cloak swirling around him, and snatched up a pen, scribbling down a line or so that had crossed his mind. Damien watched him.

When Arum had finished, he looked back at Damien, eyes bright, a smile curling across his lips, his entire face radiating happiness. He paused. "Why do you look like that?"

"Hmm?" Damien hummed.

His mouth twisted into a delighted grin. "You're smiling."

"What?" Damien's hand flew to his mouth, but he was right. He'd been smiling. In fact, he couldn't stop, and Arum's face softened and something in his chest swelled and he _couldn't stop smiling_ and-

oh.

he'd meant that poem, hadn't he.

"Honeysuckle?" and the thing in is chest constricted at Arum's concern, tightening around his heart, interupting it's rythm.

"I- I must go. I just-" he gasped, trying to think, "I just remembered, I have a, a consultation with another client. I need to meet with him." He swept his papers up, stuffing them in his satchel, watching Arum watch him ~~watching his face fall-~~

"Oh. Tomorrow, then?"

Damien froze, stumbled. "I- I may have another, client. I'd have-" his throat closed around the words, but one long breath cleared it enough to say "I'd have to check."

"Are you alright, Honeysuckle?" he asked, voice full of concern, one clawed arm reaching out and Damien jerked back.

"Fine! I'm prefectly fine, just, running a little late, you know how it is." He let out a strained laugh.

"Ah." Arum pulled back him hand, holding it to his chest. "I see. Well," he forced a smile, closer to a sneer than what he'd had just a few minutes before. "Don't let me keep you."

"No, I won't. Thank you for today." And he was gone.

~LKT~

Damien did not have a client. In fact, he did not have a client for the next three days.

He did, however, have a panic attack.

It lasted a while, although it could be counted as multiple shorter attacks, due to the fact that most of them were triggered not by his feeling for both Arum and Amaryllis, but by how he reacted. He'd calm down, get his breathing under control, slow his speeding thoughts... then recall _exactly_ what Arum's face had done when he said "I won't", and it'd start right back up again.

It took... a while, for him to calm down long enough to truly check the time.

" _Saints!_ " He scrambled to get up, to get ready, before he realized that he was far, far past late to his rendezvous with Rilla. He'd missed it entirely.

He slumped back to the floor, dead eyed and staring at the wall. He'd have to talk to them both, give some sort of explanation for his behaviour. Sickness? Bitter laughter filled the room, surprising him. It was sickness, of a sort.

Avoiding them was unthinkable. It never even crossed his mind.

~LKT~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell this is the one I had fun writing. also what a place to end huh.

**Author's Note:**

> _oh my gods y'all I'd completely forgotten I made the line breaks lizard kissin tuesday like **good thing** it's tuesday oh my gods_


End file.
